Dirty Thief

by Tia Louise

  “I found Suad’s aunt,” Clare says, and my heart jumps.

  “Oh! That’s great news! I was hoping we would find her family.” I turn to her, but again, worry lines her face. “What’s wrong?”

  “She won’t come here, majesté. She says it’s too dangerous.”

  “I don’t understand. Where is she now?”

  Clare starts to walk, and I follow her up the steps through the entrance to the large house. “She is in Germany, but it is becoming more and more difficult to travel. Many of these people, once they are settled, they don’t want to leave.”

  My lips press into a frown. “She’s afraid she won’t be able to return?”

  Clare nods. “And she has other children. She doesn’t want to leave them behind.”

  “Surely we can find a way around this?” I take the printout of names I emailed her last week. She’s written notes on it, and the name Hamida is beside Suad’s. “Is this her aunt?”

  Clare shakes her head. “Her aunt is Sanaa. Hamida was Suad’s mother. She was killed in the bombings.”

  “Oh.” My chest aches when I think of the little girl losing her mother. “Was Sanaa her mother’s sister?”

  “Oui.” Clare looks over her notes written in French. I’m only able to make out a few of the words. “Sanaa escaped a month ago with her two children. She can’t believe Suad made it this far. She thinks it’s possible neighbors carried the little girl out before they were separated.”

  We didn’t get much information on the children when they arrived. As soon as I’d said we could take some, Marguerite had sent a van holding our ten. It had happened so quickly, I’d barely had time to find a location and hire Clare.

  “You remember what it was like when they arrived,” I say quietly.

  “What’s wrong?” Zelda walks into the foyer where we’re standing, Belle on her hip.

  I quickly explain the situation, and her brow lines. “It doesn’t make sense to keep out women and children.”

  “We don’t know if one of them might be a suicide bomber,” Clare argues. “I’m not against these decisions… except when it impacts us.”

  I give her forearm a squeeze. “I’ll make a call. I’m sure we can get an exception for Suad.” I’m encouraged by the thought of the pretty little girl reunited with her family. “Any luck with the others?”

  “We’re still working,” Clare says, showing me her notes. “I’m afraid some of the children might be all alone.”

  Chewing my lip, I meet my sister’s eyes. She’s not smiling, and I rub my hand up and down Belle’s back.

  “It’s possible we can find people to adopt them.” I follow Clare to the kitchen where Rashida is slicing a baguette to go with their lunches. “What became of Taimaa’s family?”

  “That is good news, majesté!” Clare’s face brightens. “They are close by, in France. They are preparing to come and get her in a few days.”

  “You checked their papers?”

  “Oh yes, Monsieur Arnaud helped to verify their identity. They are very excited to see her again.”

  “Good,” I say. “If Freddie says they’re okay, then she’s safe to go with them.”

  “I must go and call the children to lunch. Please, show your sister around the home.” Clare holds out her hand. “It was so nice to meet you Miss Zelda.”

  Zee shakes her hand. Rashida hands a slice of baguette to Belle, who sticks it in her mouth as we walk out of the kitchen.

  “It must be infuriating to deal with such ignorance and isolationism,” Zee says under her breath. She’s angry, and she’s a mother. I understand her frustration.

  “Nice was so close to where we are,” I counter. “It feels like the danger is right at the door when something like that happens. People get scared.”

  “But to punish little children? To keep them away from safety and their families? That isn’t right, Ava-bug.”

  “I know,” I sigh. “Still, you have to think of the citizens who have children and want to keep them safe. They have rights, too.”

  My sister’s brows clutch. “Closing doors and shutting others out only creates more fear. We have to get to know each other. The more time we spend with them, the more we see how much we all have in common. We all want our children to be safe, to have good homes, and to be healthy.”

  I start to laugh. “When are you planning to move back here? I could use your help, and I know Rowan misses Cal.”

  She only shakes her head. “No thank you. We’re very happy on our little island.”

  “Who’s the isolationist now?”

  Zee cuts her eyes at me, but I only raise an eyebrow. It’s difficult to throw stones from thousands of miles away. We continue through the small bedrooms. I show her the cubbies where the group keeps their toys. I show her the donations of clothes and shoes Clare has sorted. We’re back to the entrance, and I’m ready to go when Clare stops me.

  “Majesté! One more came through!” She’s really smiling now. She’s holding the phone to her ear, but she turns the sheet so I can see what she’s written on it.

  Beside the name Aylan, she has written Nour, Mère.

  Heat fills my eyes, and I smile so big. “You found his mother!”

  Clare nods quickly, putting her hand over the phone. “I’m having her send me a copy of his birth certificate. I’ll email it to Monsieur Freddie. She is in Italy, so she can be here as soon as tomorrow.”

  “She’s in Italy! And they sent him here.” The irony is not lost. I step forward and give Clare a hug. “I’m so happy. Thank you.”

  We leave the orphanage surrounded by optimism. I have to finish searching the remaining names, but perhaps we can find more families. Things are difficult, but the little rays of hope keep us going.

  “We should stop at the drugstore and get a pregnancy test,” Zee says, shifting in her seat as best as she can with a sleeping Belle clutching her hand.

  I press my teeth together in a smile. “I’m scared,” I say, but my heart is beating so fast. “I really want to…”

  “Hajib!” Zee leans forward, and the stocky driver holds up a hand.

  “I’m headed that way now.”

  We both start to laugh, but I pull up short. “I can’t be the one to buy it. It’ll be front-page news tomorrow, and Rowan will kill me. We haven’t said anything to the queen.”

  My sister’s brow lines. “Hajib—”

  “I’ll pull around the block, and the Duchess can get out.”

  Our eyes meet, and we both lean forward, snorting a laugh. “He really doesn’t need us for anything,” I say, feeling my cheeks heat.

  “Not true, your majesty,” Hajib again calls back. “I need you for a job.”

  I do a little shrug, and we’re stopped. Zee pries her hand out of Belle’s, and the little girl whines and squirms with her eyes closed. I scoot closer to the car seat and place my arm around the top. I weave my fingers into hers, and it’s the first time she’s held onto me since they arrived. Every time I try to pick her up, she whines or squirms.

  “You really need to visit more so she at least knows who I am,” I hiss as my sister jumps out of the car.

  Waiting, I slide my thumb back and forth over the baby’s hand and watch the cars pass along the road. My skin feels prickly with nerves, and my heart is beating faster. I can’t decide if I should do it as soon as I get home or wait for Rowan. Of course, Zelda isn’t about to let me wait that long. I’m contemplating whether it matters if we have a boy or a girl first when the door flies open and my sister dives in beside me.

  “Drive, Hajib!” she whisper-shouts.

  “I see them,” he calls, pulling the car away from the curb as a little crew of paparazzi storms up.

  Strobe flashes pop through the tinted windows, but Zee has the box in a brown bag under her thigh. “Your secret is safe with me,” she pants. “Lord knows I don’t want the old crone coming back to the palace as long as we’re visiting.”

  “You’re pushing your lu
ck,” I quip. “If she finds out her favorite son is visiting, she’ll be on the next train back. She’ll likely be pissed we didn’t tell her.”

  “Don’t curse me.”

  Laughter bursts through my nose at her rolling eyes. The queen is pretty rough on Zee, I confess. “She’s bitter because you took Cal so far away.”

  “She can deal with it.”

  * * *

  Twenty minutes later, I’m on the toilet. Zee is pacing back and forth, reading the box. “You have to pee on this end, and then stick it in the plastic cap. Then we have to wait five minutes.”

  She thrusts the white stick at me, and my bottom lip goes under my teeth. “I’m scared, Zee.”

  “Stop it!” she hisses. “You sound like you’re fourteen again.”

  “What do I do if it’s positive?”

  “You have a baby.”

  “What do I do if it’s negative?”

  “Keep having sex.”

  “Have I ever told you how much I admire your brilliance?” I snark.

  Our eyes meet, and we both explode with laughter. I’m holding the white stick like it’s a magic wand.

  “Hurry up!” Zee cries. “Get it under there and pee on it before Belle wakes up!”

  Glancing up at her, I can’t resist. “Is this what my life will be like?”

  “No. You’ll have a team of maids and nannies. Your baby will know you about as well as Belle does.”

  My lips tighten, and I take a deep breath. “I will not!” I shout.

  “Just pee on it,” she shouts.

  Hunching forward, I stick the device under my crotch. “Is that what Cal says to you?” I tease.

  “Gross. We are not into golden showers.”

  “I don’t feel like I can pee,” I say, nervous energy surging through my belly.

  My sister’s eyes flash, and I start to go. We both wait a second, and I pull it out. “Where’s the cap?”

  Zee takes it away, and I quickly clean up and flush. We’re in the bathroom in the very back of the royal suite with both the bedroom door and the bathroom door closed. A knock on the outside door makes us both scream.

  “Ava?” Rowan’s deep voice is muffled on the other side of the heavy wood. “Are you okay in there?”

  Zelda and I collapse on each other and start to giggle. Her head pops up, and she puts a finger over her lips. Grabbing my face, she whispers directly in my ear.

  “Do you want to tell him now?”

  She leans back, and I glance down at the stick. “You go. Let me tell him alone.”

  Her face goes pouty, and my eyes narrow. “I’ll text you the minute I’ve told him.”

  “The second,” she orders.

  “The second,” I relent.

  She runs to the door and unlocks it. Rowan stands in the doorway still in his suit and tie. One dark wave has fallen over his forehead, and he’s wearing his glasses. I melt against the bathroom counter when he smiles.

  “What’s going on in here?” His voice is gentle, and my stomach is twisted in a million knots.

  “I just…” I turn back to the counter, and I see the stick is showing a result. Only, I don’t know what it means. “Shit!”

  “It actually smells like jasmine,” Rowan says, and I burst out laughing.

  “No!” I cry, dropping to my knees and digging around in the small wastebasket. “I have to find the box. Zee threw it away after she read it.”

  My husband comes closer to where I’m standing, and he glances at the counter. “Is that…”

  The box is in my hand, and I pop up quickly. “Shh!” I hold my hand just above his lips. “Don’t say anything.”

  “Why not?” he whispers.

  “I have to read.”

  Turning to the counter, I block his view with my body. The stick is facing up, and the box has a diagram on it. One line means not pregnant, two lines means pregnant, I read silently. Closing my eyes, I take a slow breath to calm the flying in my chest.

  My hands shake as I lift the plastic wand. My eyes search the small window on the side, and it says…

  * * *

  Zee is going to be so pissed. It’s been way more than a second since I told Rowan the results of the pregnancy test. It’s actually been about… I look over at the clock and see it’s been about twelve hundred seconds.

  I’m lying on my back, and my sexy husband is naked beside me. He kisses my ribs, and I laugh. He moves higher to suck one of my nipples into his mouth, and I squeal. Tingling heat is still radiating from where he gave me the most mind-blowing orgasm with his mouth.

  “What shall we name her?” he says, leaning on his hand and looking down at me.

  I smile up at him, twisting my finger in the dark hair around his neck. “You think it will be a girl?”

  He places his palm on my flat stomach, spreading his long fingers over my skin. “I’ve been watching Cal with Belle, and I think it would be fun to have a little princess.”

  “She would have you completely wrapped around her chubby finger. Exactly like Belle has Cal.”

  My phone buzzes once. Before I can reach for it, it buzzes again. Then it buzzes again. “She’s pissed,” I laugh.

  The first text is one word: Bitch.

  Text #2 is, I’ve been chewing my nails trying to figure out how to make you feel better.

  Text #3: You are the meanest sister.

  “Oh no!” I cry, quickly typing back an apology, blaming my sexy husband, and telling her the positive result.

  Rowan smiles as he watches me. “Two girls, I think.”

  Setting the device aside, I turn to face him, sliding my palm over his scruffy cheek. “And I want two boys.”

  “Sounds like we’re back to four in four.”

  “Or we’ll have to compromise.”

  * * *

  Dinner is a celebration, only no champagne for me. The four of us spend most of the time over grilled fish and lobster tails discussing family names and trying to decide which we like best.

  Cal, of course, is dragging up the worst from the Tate line. “We had an aunt Hernietta, I believe…”

  I almost send sparkling grape juice through my nose. “As in hernia?”

  “I’m pretty sure he made that up,” Rowan says with a grin.

  “That’s nothing,” Zee says. “Our grandmother’s name was Flowinia.”

  “That is completely made up,” I cry. “And even if it wasn’t, there’s no way in hell I’m naming my baby Flowinia.”

  “Nice try,” Cal quips, and Zee only laughs.

  “Hernietta was pretty good,” she says.

  I reach out to slide my hand under Rowan’s beside me. He’s more relaxed and happy than I’ve seen him in a while, and warmth surges through my chest. We’ve had such a positive day in the face of all this negative.

  At last, we’re saying good night and going to our separate chambers. Belle is once again asleep on her daddy’s shoulder, and Rowan has his arm around my back.

  He pulls me close and whispers in my ear. “Nine months.”

  Which reminds me. “I’ll need to make an appointment with Dr. Klein in the morning.”

  “At some point, we’ll have to tell the queen mother.”

  I do a little shrug. “I suppose the bulk of our trying is behind us now.”

  “Not at all.” His arm moves to my waist and he stops our walking. “Now we have to make up for all the sex we won’t be having when we have a toddler running around.”

  “Zee says we’ll have nannies and maids to take care of the babies.”

  “Hm…” He nods as if considering this for the first time. “So essentially we don’t have to change a thing. Panties remain off by royal decree.”

  That makes me laugh. “Will that be printed in the news tomorrow?”

  “God, no.” He pulls my waist, and we start to walk again. “You’d never be able to leave the house again. Do you realize how gorgeous you are?”

  I lean my head against his shoulder smiling. “
I’m happy you’re so happy.”

  “No more clenching my fists like a cave man?”

  “I hope not,” I sigh.

  “Since you brought it to my attention, I’ve been trying to break the habit.”

  Poking out my lips I squint up at him. “Are you saying you’re not really happy?”

  “My love, I’ve never been so happy in my life.”

  We’re at the door to our room, and he leans down to kiss me slowly. My entire body heats, and I slide my fingers in the sides of his hair. He carries me to our bedroom, and we slowly shed our clothing as we lose ourselves in the burning glow of happiness.

  Chapter 17

  Rowan

  Cal sits to my left when Fayed appears on the videoconference screen. He has two other Tunisian diplomats with him, and not one of them is smiling.

  “Good afternoon, my friend,” I say, hoping to set a neutral tone for this conversation.

  “Rowan,” he states. “I’ve received word from the Turkish ambassador the restrictions we discussed have been put in place.”

  Blinking down to the thick set of papers before me, I do a slight nod. “It’s a temporary measure we hope will bring some much-needed calm to the people of Monagasco.”

  “It’s a short-sighted move that shows a lack of faith toward your allies,” one of the men beside him snaps.

  My friend, the prince of Tunis, reaches out and touches the man’s arm. “I want to hear from you, Rowan. What do you hope to accomplish by doing this?”

  “The measure was brought to me by our parliament. It isn’t closing doors. It’s basically stopping the free flow of workers from certain countries without a system of registry. Without a visa.”

  Cal leans forward to speak. “It’s a similar measure used by Great Britain and other allies to give the citizens a sense of security.”

  “So you’re no longer allowing workers to visit the Riviera?”

  “Of course not,” I reply. “For starters, we don’t even cover the entire Riviera. Drivers, deliverymen who already possess visas will have no problems crossing our borders. We’re simply asking businesses to register all new hires.”